Brothers
by SquintSquad183
Summary: "You and me Scott.. we're brothers." When those words were said, Derek meant it. He would protect Scott in any way possible with every fiber of his being. But he hadn't made it in time. And once again, every bit of family he had left was stolen from him. And once again, it was because of the Argents. Set during Raving. (02x08) Warning: Character Death. No longer a shot.
1. Derek

**Disclaimer:: I own nothing.. because If I did, there was be more Derek. A LOT more Derek.. **

**Okay.. I got freak hooked on this show and watched both seasons in two days. Well I was watching the episode Raving (02x08) and I kept thinking how in a way cool it was how protective Derek got over Scott, like he had Stiles break the barrier, attacked an Argent, and went into a room full of vaporized Wolfsbane to save him, then sat bedside while the vet helped Scott.. then he actually thanked him. Maybe I'm just weird, but I thought it was sweet.. and then I had this dream.. about this.. so yeah.. **

**Warning:: Character Death**

* * *

As the agonized howl split the air, Derek's mind went completely and utterly blank. Every single thought about killing and/or catching Jackson vanished like a whisp of smoke. One, single thought dominated his entire being. Get to Scott. A quick, internal battle waged within the bloodsoaked alpha.

"Stiles! Break it!" He snarled as his face fell slack.

"Wait what!?" Stiles sounded something close to infuriated at that. He was so proud of what he had finally been able to do help. And here was Derek telling him to ruin it. To hell with that.

"Break it." Derek's voice was becoming frantic. He _had _to get to Scott!

"What?! No way!"

"Scott's dying!" He finally told Stiles, knowing if anything was going to make Stiles break the barrier it was going to be the thought of losing his best friend.

"Wait what! How do you know that!?" He sounded scared now as he looked into the typically stony face of the man before him. Now it was etched over in concern.

"Stiles, I just know, break it!" Thankfully, finally, mercifully, Stiles broke the barrier. Without another seconds hesitation, he started running. He heard yelling, and for a second he wasn't aware that it was himself screaming for Scott. What finally forced him to stop was the sound of a rapid heartbeat. As he looked back, he fought a growls as his scarlet eyes met those of Mrs. Argent. The only thini that kept him from attacking her was a faint sound, the only one that could pull his attention right now. And he almost missed it. The faltering and weakening sound of a dying heart mixed with a scent he had come to well associate with his friend.  
"No.." His voice has weakened past it's usually animalistic growl. The farmiliar scent of Wolfsbane laced the air. She had tried to poison him with Wolfsbane! He couldn't even die peacefully! She had to drag it out and make it torture! As he rounded the doorway into the room, his own heart seemed to race. Scott lay on the ground, there was no rise or fall of his chest, so steady sound of his breath. No. No. No. No. No. No. Before he could move to aid his freind, a twisted voice reached his ears.

"We told you Derek. Kate's death will not go without retribution."

"I didn't touch Kate! Peter did!"

"Well Peter's not around anymore is he? Sometimes one Alpha must pay for another's mistakes. You take our family, we take your... Well.. what's left of yours. The only think that kept him from lunghing at the vile woman was the sight of the young man who lay lifeless mere feet in front of him. Words from long ago echoed painfully in his ears as he stared at the entirely still body of the young man before him.

* * *

_ Derek's form loomed over Scott. He could practically hear the muscle in the boy's shoulder slowly repairing itself from the devastating blow of the crossbow. As his pale green eyes slowly faded from the blue they were becoming as he forced himself to remain human. As he looked down at Scott, he felt a slight rush of sympathy. The kid was scared._

_ "You and me Scott, we're brothers now."_

* * *

"Scott! Scott!" Derek was quite literally on his knees, begging now. He shook Scott roughly, trying with all his might to wake the teen up. He had dragged him into the parking lot. He needed Stiles to hurry.. they had to get him to Dr. Deaton.. He would be able to help. "C'mon Scott!"

He could smell the farmilar scent of his pack watching him. He felt their pity and he resented it with every fiber of his being. Why did they pity him anyway? Did they think Scott wouldn't wake up? No.. that was stupid.. Scott had to wake up.. He had to! He heard the sound of police sirens blaring dangerously close and coming closer to the parking lot where he kneeled, trying in vain to bring his friend back.

"Stiles, hurry!" He screamed in no particular direction. He knew Stiles was trying, he was running as fast as he could, but it wasn't fast enough! He dragged an exposed claw down Scott's arm, just hoping it would trigger the healing process.. "C'mon.. work goddammit!"

Not knowing what else to do, he started doing chest compressions. He supposed deep down he knew it wouldn't work, but at this point he was willing to do anything. Scott was the only family he had left. And yes, he meant family. He knew he directed most of his grouchyness toward the youth, but Scott was, in many ways, his little brother. And he would do anything for him.

A feeling of failure took root deep inside his chest, cutting off his air and feeling like he had literally been punched right in the ribs. He couldn't breathe as he looked down at the still impossibly immobile Scott. This was wrong. He was an alpha.. he should have gotten there in time to help.. he should have been there!

He already started trying to justify himself. Scott had always denied he was a part of Derek's pack. But he had still howled, begged for help.. and Derek hadn't gotten there in time. With a feeble sound, he heard the last beat of a weak heart.

"No Scott! NO!" Derek shook Scott with every bit of strength he could muster. Which to be honest, wasn't that much.. he could barely move. Tears came, unbidden and unwanted to his eyes as he struggled to breathe, trying to wake Scott up. He refused to let them spill, just as he had refused after the fire.

A sound of panting forced Derek to turn. Stiles was running toward them, and slowed when he saw the state Derek was in. Derek could see the look of shock on and fear on his face. He heard Stiles' heart begin to race and watched his face contort slightly as he stared.

Unable to stop, Derek looked down, felt his body change, and rose again, his eyes glowing scarlet, his lips curled back to expose his canines. He looked down at Scott once more, moving to crouch on all fours. Letting instinct reign, he tossed his head toward the sky, a gutwrenching howl overlapping every sound for miles. As he let his head drop, he tried to take another breath, before howling again.

He watched Stiles realize, and not believe. Slowly he shifted human, anchoring himself not to anger, but to grief. He stepped away, trying to give the teen a moment with his friend, and not to mention he still needed to try to get in another breath of oxygen, his throat was so constricted he could barely speak. And when he did, it sounded weak, odd.

"We need to get out of here." Derek moved, and his pain doubled at least when he looked at Stiles, sitting on his knees on the pavement, staring at Scott with wide eyes and tears openly streaming down his face. As Stiles gave a weak nod, Derek slowly managed to shrink his claws back in, grabbing Scott and placing him gently into the backseat of Stiles' car.

* * *

Christopher Argent froze as a bloodchilling and heartbreaking howl of misery, loss, and mourning split the completely still air. He gave a demented smile as his wife's words reached him, confirming what the howl already told him.

"Kate's death has been repaid. Derek's pack is one less. Scott McCall is dead."

* * *

**Yes... I'm a horrible person.. oh well... *sigh* What did ya think? Please leave a comment!**


	2. Allison

**Disclaimer:: I own nothing, like I said before. **

**Author's Note:: You guys asked for it, and I hope I did okay, but I don't like Allison and writing from her point of veiw was almost painful for me. You have been warned. **

**Warning:: Character Death**

* * *

Allison was running. All she had heard was Derek calling for Scott. Derek never called for anybody unless he had to. Especially Scott. Something was wrong. The further she ran, the more sure she was of what she was smelling. It was a distinctive odor, one her grandfather had just recently taught her to recognize. Wolfsbane. But wait.. hadn't her father told her that the priority tonight was Jackson? He was the one killing people.. then why the heck was Wolfsbane here?

"Scott? Derek? Seriously guys?" She heard Stiles as he wandered about, looking confused and a little ticked off. She rolled her eyes and kept on her path. She was determined. Why was there Wolfsbane? She was done with the lies from her family.

She heard the calls for Scott stop, and she paused, catching her breath and whirling around. She had no idea where to go now, she couldn't hear Derek, or Stiles, or even Scott. She did the only thing she knew to do. She followed the smell of the Wolfsbane. As she got closer to what she could tell was the source, she called out.

"Scott? Stiles?" She instantly wished she hadn't spoken. She probably just gave up where she was to the Kanima. Cringing internally, she continued down a wall, as she walked she saw a room. She neared, and the smell of the lethal flower became stronger and stronger. She now held no doubt that the room was the source. She reached her hand toward the door..

"Allison? What you doing here?" Allison whirled toward the sound of her mother's voice.

"Mom! What's with the wolfsbane?" To be entirely honest, she really wasn't even sure she wanted to know.

"C'mon Allison we need to go. The police are coming."

"Mom! Why was there Wolfsbane here!?" Allison didn't want to argue, and she would've followed her mother, had she not heard Stiles' voice echoing from about the same place she had come. He was still calling for Derek. And then for Scott. She turned her head. "Stiles?" it was more of a question to herself.

"Come on Allison" Her mother snapped impatiently.

"Why are we in such a hurry? Running from someone?" Allison couldn't help but challenge. Instinct told her something wasn't right here. This didn't add up. "Answer me mom!"

"I'll explain everything once we find your father and grandfather, now let's _go!_" And Allison almost followed, when she heard a yell. From Derek. It was Scott's name, like when Stiles called out., but it wasn't summoning or questioning. It was horror and fear. He was asking him something.. but she couldn't tell what. To move? But the voice was too distant for her to actually make out the words. Before Allison could even open her mouth to speak, something overlapped the sound. It was a howl.

It wasn't Scott. She knew Scott's howl. And this wasn't it. It was Derek. How did she know? She had no idea. But not only was it lower than Scott's howl, it wasn't to announce a location to a pack, as she had heard Stiles say that was why wolves howled. This was a howl of complete misery, completely broken. This was a howl of mourning. The mere sound of it brought tears to her eyes, even if she didn't realize the implications of it.

"What did you do!?" she yelled as she whirled back to face her mother. She refused to follow her any farther.

"I told you that we'd dicuss it later!" Victoria Argent kept walking. She knew Allison would follow, even if not immediatly.

But Allison that had her own agenda. She turned and ran toward the sound of the howl, which was still rising in timbre. As she rounded the corner, her breath caught in her throat. She was correct in the fact that it was Derek. He was in his entire wolf form, something she had never seen. She watched the Alpha howl. He was crouched over something. A member of his pack lost to the Kanima? She stole closer, trying to get a better veiw. Stiles was walking closer to the scene, and he looked.. like hell. He was walking stifly and his eyes looked glazed. He reminded her breifly off what you see of zombies from those stupid movies.

_C'mon... move.. _she wanted to see which of the pack was dead. Probably Isaac, the body type looked like it matched, but she couldn't see with Derek's form shielding it. If she could just get to the other side of the lot... She straightened up to move toward the other side of the lot, but the quick appearance of Boyd and Erica at the exact spot she planned to move to quickly squashed that plan. She watched the pair exchange anxious glances, and Erica gave a smallish howl of her own. That sealed it for Allison. It had to be Isaac, why would the pack grieve for one that wasn't theirs? Then Derek moved, and she gasped.

"Scott..." it was a whisper, it was all she could manage. It reminded her of the time when she was five, and she fell from the monkey bars on her back. All the air rushed from her lungs in a single whisp. That was the feeling she felt now. She was unable to get in a exhale, inhale, anything. She watched Stiles quite literally drop to his knees, and realize that she herself was sliding down the wall, digging her fingers into the cracks between bricks to keep steady. "No.." it was barely a whimper. Derek phased back to his human form. He said something to Stiles, and after a moment, he hesitantly agreed.

She watched as they picked Scott up and put him in the back seat. She finally figured out how to breathe again, and when she did it came out as a strangled sob. Obviously Derek heard, because his head snapped around and his eyes met hers. He looked.. She couldn't even think of a word. She figured she must look something like that. But to be honest she really didn't care.. Scott was... he was... she couldn't even bring herself to say the word. Couldn't bring herself to even think it.

Sliding her back down the wall, she drew her knees up to her chin and sobbed uncontrollably into them. She didn't even know how long it was that she felt her father's hands on her shoulders. He was talking to her but she heard none of it.

"Allison! Allison it's me.. what's wrong?!" He sounded panicked, and finally she managed to bring herself to speak.

"S..S...Sc..Scott..." she sobbed "He...He... He's.. d..." she fell against her father, sobbing hysterically.

"What?" her father barely managed to sound convincing, like he didn't know. "You were probably mistaken.."

"No..I s..s.. saw him.. and D..De..Derek.. He's.. d...d..." she buried her face in her father's shoulder, her body shaking in racking couldn't see her father giving her mother a strange look, she couldn't see her mother turn away and walk toward the others without a second thought. She didn't even notice when Gerard walked past without a care in the world.

* * *

**Like? I'll make one from Stiles' point of veiw next to make up for this monsterous fail. Please comment. **


	3. Stiles

**Okay.. well here is my make up for my fail of portraying Allison (I still don't like her... -_-) and a little bit more in depth of some things that happened ****_after _****the 'big-tough-alpha-wolf-Derek' and Stiles left the parking lot. I've given up on this being a shot, and have 18 more chapters planned, so buckle up for the ride! :) **

**Disclaimer:: I own nothing that you recognize.. if I did.. well... you would know. Trust me. **

**Warning:: Character Death**

* * *

Stiles couldn't help but to smile proudly as he looked at the line of ash. Somehow one handful had been enough to fill a thirty-odd foot gap in perimeter. He was all smiles, laughter, and fist pumps. _Finally! _Finally he had been able to do something that could actually help. And he didn't need any werewolf matrix skills either. That'd show big-tough-alpha-wolf-Derek! Oh.. and speak of Satan himself. As the surly Alpha wolf made his way closer, the hyperactive teen didn't even have time to barely gloat when the wolf whirled his head in the other direction. No doubt he heard something with his freaky hearing. Stiles barely was able to fight a groan of _What NOW?! _but he held himself back, especially considering the look on Derek's face, he looked panicked.

"Stiles! Break it!" Derek demanded, and Stiles instantly balked. Finally. _Fucking Finally! _he'd actually been able to do something to help, finally he hadn't felt like the weak link holding everyone back, or the one to call up when you were too lazy to Google something. And here he was, being _growled _at by the freaking alpha, being told to mess it up.

"Wait! What?!" Did Derek really think he was just going to break the barrier like it was nothing? If he did then he was sorely mistaken. That was _not _going to happen.

"Break it!" Derek ordered, yet again. Oh so now he was being _ordered _now what he? Well he was not one of Derek's pack, and wouldn't be treated as such. He fought the urge to cross his arms over his chest and say 'make me' like a four year old, but he settled for;

"What?! No way!" It was better than 'make me' anyway. His eyes flicked from the line of ash on the ground to Derek and back again. A small part of him had a feeling something was up, not that he would admit Derek was right.

"Scott's dying!" That almost caused Stiles physical pain. The thought of losing his best friend... He couldn't even picture it... but.. How did Derek know? As far as Scott had told him, real werewolves weren't tricked out with telepathy like in those stupid Twilight movies. How did Derek know?

"Wait! what!? How do you know that?!" He cringed internally at how panicked and scared he sounded. Great.. he would have defended himself, but what if Derek was telling the truth?

"Stiles, I just know! Break it!" Derek was already moving like he was trying to get past the border, which he wouldn't be able to do. But fear for Scott found himself moving toward the border. He sighed, then moved his hands to break the border. He leaned backwards on his heels as Derek rushed past. He frowned and went to follow. He knew he wouldn't be able to keep up with the lycan, but it was worth a shot. If Derek was telling the truth and Scott was dying, he wasn't just going to stand around and wait for Derek to come back like he always seemed to do.

He took off running, and as expected, he almost immediately fell behind. But he followed the sound of echoing footsteps as far as he could. The farther he ran, he started to notice a freaky smell. It seemed like it should be familiar but he couldn't place it. All he could think of by now was the fact that he couldn't hear the footsteps anymore. He just kept running straight, hoping he would see or hear something that could give him some kind of clue.

By not he had slowed to a walk as he tilted his head, looking around. After a second of reluctance, he called out, first for Scott, then for Derek. Suddenly he heard running footsteps, ones that were too light to be Derek's or Scott's. He ducked behind the first thing he saw, a BMW. He poked his head over the hood, and watched Allison calling out for Scott and himself. He bit his lip, something was going on, and he didn't know if he could trust the Argent.

* * *

Time passed, he couldn't be sure how long it was really, he just kept walking around, looking for any sign of his best friend or the surly alpha. With each passing second his worry grew. Were they okay? Where were they? This and about fifty billion other questions raced through his head as he began to panic. He cursed his ADHD, trying and utterly failing to think straight. He had to find.. he just had to- just as he was about to head back and try to get his dad, when he heard something. His name. Was that Derek?

Spurred by nothing less than pure adrenaline, Stiles was once again running. He heard Derek's voice growing more and more frantic as he got closer, he was talking to Scott.. what was going on? Shouldn't he go all wolf-heally and whatnot? As he finally got Scott and Derek into view, he staggered dangerously as he came running closer. Scott was laying on the ground. Impossibly still. Unnaturally still. He wasn't- He couldn't be..

Derek's eyes snapped up to meet his own, and he was shocked to see the glaze of tears in the eyes of the man. He heard the bones rearranging in Derek's face as he shifted into wolf form. He heard claws his the concrete. And he heard the howl. First just Derek. Then for a quick second, a higher note announcing Erica joined in. But though Stiles' heard it, he did not acknowledge it. He didn't acknowledge anything until he found himself on his knees on the pavement, his vision blurry from tears and his breath hitched.

"No.." he whispered, trying to comprehend, trying to make sense of what he saw before him. Scott couldn't be dead.. he couldn't be.. Could he? He stared at the lifeless body of his life-long best friend, this was all wrong. If anything, it should be himself laying there. The human. The weak one. It shouldn't be Scott. The braver one, the stronger one, the freaking werewolf! It was like everything that should have happened reversed itself. And it made Stiles' world spin around him.

"We need to get out of here." It was Derek's voice, and it was as broken as he would expect his would be, if he could find his voice... which he couldn't. But he knew Derek was right. How were they going to explain a dead teenager with no witnesses, except the Argents, who would probably lie and say they were witnesses who had watched Derek Hale and Stiles Stilinski murder Scott. He nodded weakly, still unable to find his voice. He watched as Derek moved his best friend to the backseat of the car. It took literally all his willpower to rise to his feet. He wiped the tears roughly from his eyes and looked to Derek.

He bit his lip and looked down as he got into the car, a choked sound escaping him as he tried to breathe in. As Derek started the car, Stiles looked out the window. If he didn't know better, he would swear he still heard Derek's mournful howl. But he knew it wasn't Derek's howl he was hearing. He was hearing his own, internal howl. A part of him buried deep that was howling in misery. A misery unlike any he had known except once. Only on one occasion had he ever felt pain like this. His mother's funeral. As his eyes flicked to Derek again, who was staring with complete concentration at the road, he was surprised to see a single tear inching its way down the Alpha's stony expression.

* * *

**So.. was that enough to make up for my Allison fail? I hope so. Leave a comment! Also, since this is no longer a 'shot', I plan to become more detailed and write a little bit more for each chapter. Hope that's okay! 8D**

**Excerpt from next Chapter::**

_"Dad..." Stiles whispered, his voice still cracked. The Sheriff stared at his son. He could tell the teen had been crying. That immediatly set it off. Stiles hadn't cried... Since his the Christmas after his mother died. _

_"Stiles.. what's wrong? What's happened?" _

_"Dad... It's Scott..." _


	4. Sheriff Stilinski

**Disclaimer:: Anything you see that you recognize, chances are I don't own it or have any right to it. **

**Alright... so.. I guess this is it.. I'm really enjoying writing this story, and to be honest even I'm not entirely sure on how everything is going to work out. We'll see won't we? ^. _ . ^**

**Warning:: Character Death. **

* * *

Sheriff Stilinski paced back and forth in the kitchen, his phone pressed once again to his ear. He had no clue how long it had been, but Stiles was most definitely _way _past curfew. It was almost dawn! He wasn't answering his phone. He bit his lip, trying to keep all the chances and statistics he had learned from his years as a cop. He tried to talk himself down, tried to tell himself that at absolute worst Stiles had possibly hooked up with a girl. The nerve-frayed cop was startled into motion by a sudden knock at the door. Whirling around, he jogged to the door, undid the lock, and swung the door open, praying to God Almighty in heaven that it was Stiles. He already had his 'ticked off dad' speech ready.

"Stiles you-!" he suddenly shut his mouth when he saw that it was in fact Melissa McCall standing at his door. She looked as stressed as he felt. And a little bit scared as well. He blinked and finally came up with the proper words. "Melissa.. what are you doing here?" he asked, then quickly shook his head. "I'm sorry.. that was rude. C'mon in." He held to door open and she walked in, then turned to look at him.

"I had to work the night shift last night and I just got home.. and Scott's not there.. and there's no note.. I thought he might have come here for the night and forgotten to ask... but none of his clothes are gone.. and I tried to call but your line was busy and I.." she buried her face in her hands trying to calm down some, the Sheriff could tell she was trying. But she was scared, just as he was for Stiles. He encased her wrists in his hands and looked at her.

"Melissa, look at me. Calm down, he's probably fine." his insides reeled at what he considered a lie. Something was off here. Stiles missing curfew, nothing new there. But Scott was 'the good one' of the pair. Him just leaving home seemed odd. And not calling or answering his phone.. He forced his attention back to the frantic woman in front of him.

"Stiles mentioned they were going to some sort of party tonight. Maybe Scott just forgot to mention it to you? And I think we both know they're probably just sitting in Stiles' jeep listening to the police scanner.." a realization crossed him, but he continued. ".. just waiting to show up at a crime scene for the pure hell of it."

"Maybe.." she admitted, calming slightly. He released her wrists, and awkwardly shoved them into his pockets.

"Go home. Get some sleep. You look exhausted and stressing out about it doesn't help anyone." He said gently. He noticed that she hadn't even changed out of her work clothes. He gave the smallest of half smiles as he looked at her as she walked back toward the door. He closed the door after her, then quite literally took off running through the house and into the dining room. He flipped on the police radio that sat in the corner and stared at it with impatient expectance. He flopped down into one of the chairs and waited. Come on.. something had to happen.

* * *

Almost an hour later the officer was almost dozing off in the chair when a loud _*beep*_ issued from the police scanner announcing a call in. He straightened up and leaned closer to the radio as staticky noise issued for a brief second.. before-

"We have a report of an abandoned blue Jeep Wrangler off Silver Creek Drive. There's reports of damage to the exterior, suggesting an animal attack. Also reports of blood on the passenger side window..."

Sheriff Stilinski needed to hear nothing else. He was already on his way to the door, pulling his jacket over his shoulders as he went. All traces of exhaustion gone from his features. As quickly as almost humanly possible, he was opening the drivers side door to his car, when he heard something that forced him to turn around. To his horror, he saw Stiles being supported by none other than Derek Hale. Every time his left foot touched the ground he gave a small whimper. Instantly moving to his son's side, he gruffly pushed Derek backwards some and took the place of supporting his son as he went back into the house.

To his slight surprise the typically argumentative man made no complaint or even any real reaction. He simply followed into the house, opening and closing the door behind them. Getting Stiles to a chair, the Sheriff turned to look at Derek, whom he thought looked like living hell, even more so than usual. He turned back to Stiles, who was staring blankly ahead.

"Stiles.. what happened son?" Stiles blinked, staring at his father, his brown eyes wide with an almost glazed look.

"W..We went to the party.. a..and we thought... we thought it'd be f..fun to listen to the po.. to the police scanner for a little while.." He swallowed roughly. Mr. Stilinski watched as his son's eyes flicked to Derek quite often, but it wasn't in nervousness. It was like he was making sure the guy who still hadn't said a word was still there. "It.. it was some kind of animal... I think.. it.. it.. attacked the jeep.. we tried to run.. but Scott's asthma.. we... I.. left his inhaler in the jeep... I told him.." he swallowed again. "I told him that I'd get help.. I sorta remembered where the old Hale house was.. me and Sc-" he looked at the ground. "We saw Derek t..there once.. I.. I thought he might be able to help.. but we got back.." by this point Stiles was shaking. From fear, or cold, was beyond any of them, but his father quickly rushed to go get a blanket for him.

When Mr. Stilinski came back into the room, he looked back at Derek, who seemed to have backed up away from his son by several paces.

"Dad..." Stiles whispered, his voice still cracked. The Sheriff stared at his son. He could tell the teen had been crying. That immediately set it off. Stiles hadn't cried... Since his the Christmas after his mother died.

"Stiles.. what's wrong? What's happened?"

"Dad... It's Scott..."

"It's okay.. we'll find him Stiles, I promise."

"I.. I can tell you where he is.." Derek said, speaking for the first time in the Sheriff's presence. And his voice cracked dangerously.

"See Stiles.. it's alright.." It occurred to him that Derek said he knew where Scott was, not what state he was in. He looked to Derek again, and saw the look of confirmation in his eyes. Immediately a pang of loss invaded him as well. He looked back toward Stiles, and wrapped his son in a tight hug. He expected Stiles to yank away, to tell him stop, that he was fine, like he usually would. But instead Stiles fell against his fathers chest and cried onto his shoulder. It was all the elder could do to not cry as well. Losing Scott was like losing Stiles. It actually hurt. "I'm so sorry Stiles.." he whispered.

He heard Derek shift uncomfortably as he moved toward the door. He was suddenly started by the ringing of his phone. Unwillingly, he let go of Stiles and answered. He bit his lip at the voice at the other end of the phone.

"Yeah.. I know.. the police radio.. he's home.. yeah, but look, we're going to have to send a search party out in the woods about..." he looked to Derek, who quickly mouthed back. ".. to about seven miles west of the old Hale place... I'm sorry... I can't.." he started to pull the phone away from his ear when Stiles unexpectedly snatched it away.

"Dad.. go find Scott.." the voice was barely a whisper, and the eldest man noticed that Stiles' voice cracked on the name of his best friend, and that his eyes moved to Derek again as he did so. Reluctantly, he took the phone back from his son and replaced it next to his ear.

"Yeah.. change of plans... I'll be there in fifteen minutes." The call disconnected, and the sheriff looked warily at his son, apology already in his eyes. "I'll be back soon.. don't leave the house." He headed toward the door, quite literally grabbing the back of Derek's jacket and actually just about dragging him to his car. He shoved him roughly into the door of the passenger seat.

"What the-?" Derek started, but the man before him was hearing none of it.

"No. Derek, you are going to show me where Scott is."

"Or what, are you going to shoot me? Might not do well in the next election."

"Don't tempt me." the elder Stilinski snapped, an icy edge to his voice. "You. Are. Going. To. Show. Me. Where. Scott. Is." And without another word, he got into the drivers seat.

* * *

It was a relatively short drive, and, true to his word, Sheriff Stilinski pulled around a bend to greet blue flashing lights about fifteen minutes later. He was greeted by one of his deputies, who eyed Derek suspiciously.

"Hale, right?" He greeted, not too politely, before turning his attention to his superior. "What's he doing here Sheriff?"

"He knows where McCall is. He helped my son out of the forest." he caught the air of suspicion from the young hot-shot deputy. "Go where he tells you to go, within reason."

"Alright.." the deputy agreed reluctantly.

"This way.." muttered Derek as he walked into the forest. After exchanging quick glances, Stilinski and the deputy followed. It wasn't long after Derek came to a sudden halt. Laying completely still near an enormous fir. His breath hitching, the Sheriff leaned forward, pressing his index finger against Scott's neck, feeling for a beating heart. He found none. He felt the uncomfortable prick of tears building behind his eyes. He turned to look at Derek, and was shocked to see him almost doubled over about ten feet away. Concern pulsating through him, he advanced toward the man.

"Are you okay?" he asked, and Derek just gave a grunt. He seemed to be gasping for breath, but the Sheriff didn't move any closer. After about thirty seconds, Derek stood up again, and maybe he was imagining it, but he could've sworn that for a brief second his eyes looked red.

* * *

The forest was bathed in golden light as the sun broke over the horizon. But despite the beauty of the forest, the mood was grim and dark. It wasn't like they particularly enjoyed pulling dead teens out of the forest. As a bodybag was rolled into an ambulance with no lights or siren, all voices dropped. Derek still hadn't left, and he didn't look like he was going to any time soon. People just seemed to accept his presence. Thankfully, they were far enough away from town to keep the town from knowing yet. But at this point, it wouldn't be long.

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**Okay.. so I ****_really _****struggled with this chapter. I hope it's okay. Next one might not be better, but I promise I plan to improve. Reviews? **


	5. Melissa

**Yes.. this is a short one... I know.. I'm really sorry but this chapter was REALLY hard for me to write (I don't know why) and I know it sucks. So try not to be too harsh? **

**Oh, I got about twelve PMs since I started this story. No, this is not nor with it ever be Sterek. I can't find a good non-Sterek without seeing about fifty Sterek fics, so you should have no problem finding one if that's what you're into. I personally don't like Sterek and the chances of me writing a Sterek fic are about 1/10,000. Sorry. I don't have anything against people who like Sterek, I'm just not into it. Thanks. (It ocurrs to me that I wrote Sterek about 20 times in that little thing..) **

**Disclaimer :: I own nothing. I don't. If you haven't figured it out already. **

**Warning :: Character Death**

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Melissa tried to calm down and get some rest like the Sheriff told her to, but she couldn't get her body to comply with her wishes and just relax. She paced in the kitchen, read a chapter of a book, she tried surfing the web, anything to take her mind off the absence of Scott. It seemed like no matter how hard she tried, the harder it became to settle herself. She felt her eyelids droop, but no sleep came to her as she walked from room to room throughout the house.

She wondered if Stiles had returned home yet, or if they had maybe fallen asleep in the Jeep. She wondered whether or not he had been out with a girl. She wondered where they were. She wondered about anything and everything her mind would allow, and before long, she felt the farmilar throb of a begining headache. She uttered a small curse before moving to the bathroom to get some Excedrin, although all she had was PM. As she swallowed the two pills and poured out the glass of water she walked back into the living room and flopped on the couch.

It took awhile, but she finally managed to calm down enough to slowly calm down to the point that she realized something she should have tried awhile ago. Pulling her cell phone out of her pocket and pressed the speed dial number 4 for Stiles' cell. It took about four rings for it to go to voicemail.

"Uhm.. hey Stiles, It's Ms. McCall.. just.. Call me whenever you get a chance."

As she hung up the phone, she stretched out on the couch even further. She regretting taking the Excedrin PM, as she was now having difficulty keeping her eyelids open. Nearly unwillingly, she closed her eyes and drifted into a light doze.

She was abruptly drawn from her dreamless sleep when she heard a loud rapping on the front door. Quickly leaping to her feet, she ran to the door and flung it wide open, her frizzy hair sticking up slightly in odd places from the way she had slept. She quickly realized that there was sunlight filtering in between the blinds that hung limply over the window.

"Yes?" she breathed as she adjusted to who was outside her door. It was Sheriff Stilinski and another officer. She blinked, before opening the door wider. "Come on in.." she gave a small smile as they entered, and she barely took note of the grim looks plastered upon their faces.

"So... I'm assuming Scott and Stiles got arrested and you're here to tell me what for and how much bail is?" It was a light joke, but there was some seriousness underneath it. Them being arrested was the only reason she could come up with for no phone calls and Scott not returning last night.

"Melissa..." She whirled her head as she heard the sheriff's voice break on her name.

"W-what's wrong?" she asked. She realized more now that something was wrong as she looked at the other officer's face along with the sheriff's. Something was definetly wrong. Much more than the boys just getting arrested, hell part of them _always _knew they'd end up arrested.

"There was an accident..." was all the man managed to get out of his mouth before Melissa shot off several questions.

"Are they okay? What happened? How's Stiles? Where were they? When did it happen?"

"Melissa.." the tone in his voice quieted her instantly. It was a tone she knew all too well. It was one she associated with patients at the hospital that were terminal or hadn't made it out of the car accident or the shooting. It was the voice they informed the parents with. Oh God.. No..

"Sheriff... what happened?" she asked, her voice now tremulous.

"We... We don't know for sure yet... but the... the medical examiner said- said it looked like Scott had a huge asthma attack.."

"Is he okay?" she supposed deep down she knew the answer, but she refused to admit it. She refused to condone any thought of Scott being.. No.. there's no way he could be..

"Melissa... he... he didn't make it.." she heard the sheriff's voice crack just before she felt pain like she'd been suckerpunched. Every hint of oxygen left her. She felt suddenly violently nauseous, and ran into the kitchen, barely making it to the trash bin in time to be sick.

She didn't know or care how long she'd been standing there, but it must have been awhile, because she felt Sheriff Stilinski's hand on her back. Without any warning he pulled her into a hug, which she almost ignored at first. Although withen about five seconds she was sobbing into the shoulder of his jacket as he rested his chin on the top of her head.

After that, everything ceased to exist.

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**Okay, so I wrote a really long Author's note, so I'll keep this short. Hope you liked! Reviews?**


	6. Nathaniel Kolton

**Happy new year! Here it is. Hope you like. **

**Disclaimer :: I own nothing. **

**Warnings :: Character Death**

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Nathaniel Kolton woke up at about six that morning to get ready for work. He went about his morning routine like he did, every single morning. He woke up, showered, got dressed, ate breakfast and downed some coffee, brushed his teeth, and went to kiss his fiance goodbye before would leave. He never made it to the door however. The sudden ringing of the house phone kept him from walking out the door. He answered the phone bringing it to his ear.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Mr. Nathan Kolton?" Came the male voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes... May I ask who's speaking?" he asked. He had to admit the man sounded somewhat farmilar.

"My name is Sheriff David Stilinski from the Beacon Hills police department. I'm calling about-"

"What did Scott do? I don't live there, you'll have to contact his mother, Melissa McCall. I'm running late for work. I'm sorry to have-" but he never got the chance to finish. He was cut off abruptly by the voice on the other end.

"Mr. Kolton.." there was something in the mans voice that struck a cord. Nathaniel stopped talking and leaned against the counter of the kitchen, gnawing on his lip. He knew from the tone of the sheriff's voice that something was wrong. _Really _wrong.

"W-what's happened?"

"Sir.. there was an accident. Scott was out with a friend, and he had a major asthma attack." Although the tone in the mans voice was grave, Nathan remained oblivious to the real message that was being forayed from the man on the phone.

"Is he okay? Did he have his inhaler?" He asked as he leaned against the wall impatiently.

"Sir.. he.. he didn't have his inhaler. When we found him.." The man paused as his voice broke. Nathan wondered if he knew Scott. "It was too late to do anythng.. I'm really sorry.." Suddenly everything seemed to be spinning, and the wall he was leaning on became his lifeline as he slid to the floor, his back still pressed against it. The phone fell out of his hand as he sank to the floor. He jerked his back against the wall and gave an incredibly loud curse.

Seconds later and he still hadn't retrieved the phone. He heard the tone as whoever was on the line hung up, but he still made no move to grab the phone. He didn't care anymore. It wasn't until about ten minuted when his fiance came out of their bedroom to get breakfast and saw him that he even moved. She walked up to him and knelt beside him.

"Babe? What's wrong?" she asked as she brushed the dark hair away from his face. "What's happened?" It took him a long time to respond, and when he did, his voice had no inflection. It was completely and utterly dead. Lifeless.

"My-my son.. " His fiance moved her palm to caress his face.

"Nathan.. what's happened to Scott."

"He... H-he's dead.." Emma, the fiance, took a short breath. She sat next to Nathan and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"What.. what happened?"

"He had an asthma attack." His voice was broken. There was no emotion beneath it, it was cold and empty. It was there he would sit for the rest of the day. He had no intentions of moving. He just sat there, thinking of every moment. Every second. Every birthday, parent night, graduation, and ceremony he had missed, and every one he would never get the chance to see. He finally got up and did something after several hours of just sitting there. He went online and booked a plane ticket to Beacon Hills.

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**I know it's short. But I do hope you liked it.**


	7. The Announcement

**Hey guys, I don't know what's up with me lately but I've been really struggling to get my thoughts out. (Curse you writers block!) But I really am trying to do this correctly and get new chapters out in a timely fashion, so I hope you don't hate me TOO much. **

**Disclaimer :: I own absolutely nothing. Teen Wolf is owned by the people at MTV and I think they do a very good job at owning it. (If you didn't know, this is the part where lawyers back away slowly.) **

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It was the next day that they announced it at school. The majority of the school that could fit was gathered in the cafetorium, where the principle gave the announcement. The reactions among the students varied somewhat, but ultimately there was one mutual feeling. Shock. There was no whispers between friends. There was no laughing or smiles. There sat a cafeteria of teenagers, who weren't saying a word.

Somewhere in all teenagers and children alike is a feeling of immortality. The feeling of 'oh that would never happen to me'. This school had just learned otherwise. Anxious glances were cast all around the room, as if some of them were searching for Scott, as if they were praying it was just a big joke. Like he would jump out and yell 'Surprise! Gotcha!'. Not a word was said for several minutes. The entirety of Beacon Hills High School was silent.

Then the dam broke. It started with Jackson stiffening, looking confused, then standing and walking out of the cafeteria. He was followed immediately by Lydia and a few others. The rest of the lacrosse team seemed to lump in together, looking at each other with wide eyes. A few sniffles could be heard. From where? No one could be entirely certain.

Boyd, Erica, and Isaac promptly left out the opposite door Jackson had taken, heads and shoulders down. Nobody could possibly understand the emotion flooding between the individuals. Scott had been pack. Pack was family. Erica curled her hand over Isaac's shoulder as they made their way to an empty classroom and just stared at each other.

Coach Finstock had leaned back to sit on the table, his eyes open wider than even was usual, his jaw hanging open slightly. He leaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. Despite his obvious eccentricities, the wild haired lacrosse coach felt a deep affection for each and every one of his players. (although possibly not Greenberg.. but then again, he's Greenberg.) The loss of McCall was like he'd been hit in the chest with a crosse.

Yet not a single word had been spoken yet.

The guidance counselor moved to the podium, and gave a speech about how many of them would go through the stages of grief, and that her office was always open, but nobody was really listening. They were to busy absorbing the fact that there would be one less face to see in the halls. It was as if the students themselves were covered in sound proof glass. There were sounds. Sniffles, gasps, and in a few cases, strangled sobs.

Many would later describe those few minutes as surreal. Nothing seemed quite right. It seemed as if everything was actually happening in slow motion, and they were all somehow late to the punch. Even those who didn't know Scott, merely 'of' him, seemed deeply shaken.

The teachers also were visibly upset. Mr Harris was standing stone still, thinking of every time he had berated or purposely gone out of his way to give Scott trouble. He felt a surge of guilt at those memories, and pushed them away.

The bell rang, releasing school for the day, and students filed out of the cafeteria numbly.

"N-no practice today.." Finstock called weakly into the corridor, as if any of them would actually show up to lacrosse after what they had just learned. "B-but I want you all here bright and early tomorrow.. That means you Greenberg!" To his defense, the possibly a little bit crazy coach was handling it the way he had handled every sadness or tragedy in his life, with humor. He was putting a smiley face on a grim subject. It was how he coped.

Slowly but surely, the remaining students and teachers made their way out the door to go home. All faces were solemn, as the school emptied itself. The last sentient being to leave the halls was Isaac as he fought to control his change and almost ripped someones locker off the wall.

As he left, the door slammed closed, its sound echoing through the hallways, an eerie ring of finality.

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**So yeah.. hope you don't think it's too terribly awful. Next chapter - the funeral. A gathering of a bunch of people who aren't fond of each other. This should be interesting. **


	8. The Funeral

**AN: I bawled when writing this, and had to stop repeatedly. If it makes any difference, I was listening to From Where You Are by Lifehouse.. yeah.. anyway, I hope you like this and it's not too cheesy or OOC. **

**Disclaimer: Why do I still have to put this? *sigh* **

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The funeral was the following Thursday.

Derek sat in the church, dressed in a suit with a black tie. He had chosen a spot in the third row, keeping his eyes down and averted from the casket that sat at the front of the room. He felt himself a pit form in the very bottom of his stomach, quickly accompanied by the feeling of nausea. He was so strongly reminded of the funeral of his family he felt a physical ache in his chest, and this time there was no Laura beside him to look to when he felt like he was about to lose it.

He forced himself to look at the casket, Scott's picture set atop it. He looked at the picture, and felt a smile cross his lips. The picture was from awhile ago, before Scott had been changed into a werewolf. His brown eyes were wide open with no glare, his smile genuine. The Scott in the picture had not entered the world of worry and stress that came with being a werewolf. He didn't have to worry about hunters, or mythical creatures. He was quickly yanked out of his musings by a hand on his shoulder, and for once he didn't pull away from the contact. If anything he wanted to lean into it. He looked up to see whom the hand belonged to, as if the scent didn't already tell him.

"Ms. McCall?" he asked, quizzical as he looked into the puffy red eyes of his friends mother. Thankful that he had chosen a seat at the end of the pew, he stood slowly to face her as her hand moved to his shoulder-blade.

"Come on Derek.. I saved a seat for you up front." She gave the tiniest of half smiles at the bewilderment that spread across the Alpha's face. "Stiles told me... how hard you tried.." her voice quivered dangerously as she tilted her head upward to look at him. "He talked about you, you know.. he respected you." tears were rolling down her face and she hastily wiped them away. Derek felt her heart rate speeding slightly in distress, but she had been telling the truth.

"To be honest Ms. McCall.. Scott was like a brother to me.. But I don't thi-" he didn't get a chance to finish as Melissa suddenly and without warning pulled him into an embrace, which, to his surprise as well as anyone who was watching, he returned. No more words were spoken as he walked with her to the front of the room and sat down, again, near the end while Ms. McCall went and sat beside the Sheriff. A few minutes later, Isaac seated himself on his left side. He felt Erica and Boyd sit behind them, and he let the feeling of grief of the pack run through him.

Minutes later and people were still filing into the church. Stiles walked in, his eyes red and puffy, and made his way to sit beside his father. His back became rigid and he appeared that the slightest touch might make him shatter. Derek felt a small rush of sympathy as he watched the teenager grieve his best friend.

Scott's father arrived soon after, and Derek was struck by two things. One, how much Scott looked like his father. The man whom had walked in looked like he could be his older brother. The second thing he realized was how much he _didn't _want the man there. It seemed almost like an insult the way he showed up after abandoning Scott and his mother. It was then Derek realized something, having grown up in a pack-like family unit, he couldn't even picture stepping up to the mat and taking the role of 'pack protecter' as it were like Scott had. Then the distaste boiled to a dislike on the verge of hatred. The man didn't deserve to mourn. He hadn' t been around for his son in life, how dare he show up for his death?

He took his eyes off the man, trying to calm down, and gazed at some of the others. To his surprise, he spotted Allison and Christopher Argent a few rows behind him. Allison looked like utter hell as she sat there, rigid and blank, yet at the same time, Derek could feel no sympathy at the girl who had put several arrows in his body. Nor could he feel any for her father, who actually looked concerned, although it was probably for his daughter.

His eyes moved back to Ms. McCall, and he couldn't help but allow an internal smile when he saw her fingers lock into those of the Sheriff. He watched as said Sheriff gave a reassuring squeeze of the hand. It made him feel slightly better that Melissa wouldn't be entirely alone. She didn't deserve that. Hell, no one deserved that. He was yanked out of thought by the sound of wood doors closing and the preacher stepping up to the podium. He listened as the pastor spoke and prayed. He listened as gentle music was played and sniffles could be heard. He listened as Ms. McCall stammered through a heartfelt speech about her son. He listened as the Sheriff spoke, claiming Scott just as much his son as Stiles. He listened as Stiles tearfully and painstakingly recounted he and Scott's meeting. It was then he realized the impact Scott had created.

He realized that everyone who knew Scott, naïve and occasionally reckless as he was, walked away better for knowing him. He realized all the good the youth's pure soul had brought into existence. It was eye opening. Yet despite this realization, he felt himself go numb as the ceremony ended and people stood and began shuffling out the door. He slid into the drivers seat of his car and waited as his pack joined him. The ceremony at the gravesite would be much smaller, he was sure, but he was going, at the request of Ms. McCall.

As he parked his car outside the graveyard, he got out, joined quickly by Isaac. They headed to where the white hearse was parked. They were joined by Stiles, Jackson, Scott's father, and the Sheriff. Naturally as Derek was dreading what came next, it seemed like a blink of an eye of waiting. After receiving the nod from the workers, the six men raised the coffin, each with one hand on the dark wood. Slowly they walked down the indicated path. After what seemed like an eternity, they made it to the gravesite and laid the coffin on the stand that it would be lowered on. They all fell back to join the others who had come to the burial. He listened as a few more words were spoken. He watched as the box was lowered into the ground.

Derek stayed until the marble slate had been placed above the grave. He gave the smallest of smiles as he saw what had been engraved. Melissa had picked what seemed to him as the perfect quote. Beneath the name and dates of birth and death, was this: "As with human life, the wolf may fade, but it's howl echoes forevermore." He stood there by the grave even as night fell. As the moon peaked, he finally returned home and changed out of his suit.

He returned to the forest, making his way to the spot he remembered perfectly. It was there he had stood over Scott while the boy panicked. _'You and me Scott.. we're brothers..' _the words echoed again and again. Using his claws, he carved a large, crude cross into the bark of an oak tree. Finally, he cut loose. Tilting his head toward the sky, he loosed a heartbreaking howl. He listened, hearing Isaac and Erica join in, seconds later joined by Boyd. Though miles apart, the pack mourned the loss of one of their own. They cried out to the sky, their collective voice making the air tremble. As Derek paused to take a breath, a single thought ran through his head. They say that the strength of the wolf is the pack, and the strength of the pack is the wolf. He realized now that the same was true for grief as he allowed another howl to break out of his chest and pierce the night sky.

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**I hope it wasn't too bad. As always, comments are much appreciated. **


	9. Guilt

**AN: Okay, here's another chapter. This one is more of a filler chapter than anything, but I also wanted to dig deeper into Isaac's reaction. I have a sudden fondness for the blue eyes wolf. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it. **

**Disclaimer: Alas.. I am only a poor Floridian. I own nothing **

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The furious pounding in his head made Derek wonder if knocking himself unconscious would be a suitable option as he woke up. What a wonderful first thought of the day. He was laying on the wooden floor of his home, the burnt rubble laying everywhere. He would've taken more time to look around as he noticed he seemed to have done some more damage to his home, but as his head gave a particularly nasty throb, he flinched away from the dawn light that was filtering through the window.

"Ughn.." he groaned as he fought the urge to be sick. His head was throbbing consistently now, each painful jolt sent a flash in front of his eyes and made the ground sway slightly below him. He tried to stand up, but ultimately failed and slumped back toward the floor, resigning to the fact that he was severely hung over and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

"Good. You're awake." Isaac's voice was knowingly quiet as he sauntered through the door. Derek tried to stand again, and made it halfway, leaning against the wall and glaring.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded, although his 'demand' sounded more like a rasp.

"What the hell am I doing here? Hmmm... let's see.. I've been dragging your inebriated werewolf ass out of the forest so you don't get killed by hunters.. What else.. oh.. in the process of trying to get you to lay down before you passed out, you managed to slash my back wide open. So yeah. That's what I've been doing here." His voice was laced with venom as he walked across the room and picked up a black bag. When he leaned over, Derek could see the line of blood stretching across the Beta's back, and he felt a rush of guilt.

"Sorry.." he grunted, still squinting against the harsh light. Isaac didn't say a word as he pulled the entire contents of the bag out and laid them on the floor. A bottle of aspirin and Tylenol, Dramamine, several bottles of water, and a bottle of orange juice. He shoved the pill bottles and the water toward Derek, not coming too close, as if he were afraid the Alpha would strike out again.

"Take the pills, and drink the first bottle of water. _Slowly. _Drink the orange juice then the rest of the water." He instructed firmly. "Then get some more sleep. You'll be better by nightfall." Derek gave a stiff laugh, instantly regretting it as it sent pain rolling in his head.

"You sound like you talk from experience." He said offhandishly, trying to make an ill-humored joke.

"I used to have to take care of my father when he came home drunk. So you could say I do talk from experience." Derek felt yet another rush of guilt. He did as Isaac instructed him , and by the time he had downed the orange juice he felt slightly better. He took another sip of water, before looking at Isaac. As he studied the teen's face, he realized how hard it had hit him. The kid looked.. broken.

"Are you okay?"

"Are you?" the younger of the two shot back irritably.

"Point taken."

"Get some sleep. I'll be back to check on you later." Isaac stood and made his way toward the door, slinging his bag over his shoulder. "And drink the water as much as possible."

"You don't have to-"

"I already have one packmate dead. I don't need my severely hung over alpha going out and getting shot to hell. Now go to sleep." The words felt like a slap, but Derek just nodded, taking a sip of the water and taking off his jacket. He placed it on the floor, and laid down, resting his head upon it. The last thought he remembered was the 'click' as the door shut behind Isaac.

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When he woke up the sun was beginning to set and Isaac was sitting across the room, watching him sleep in utter silence. As he rolled over, most of his headache was gone and the feeling like he needed to vomit was eradicated. He looked at the beta.

"You do realize how incredibly creepy that is, don't you?" Isaac didn't move. His eyes were unfocused, and there was the visible shine of tears threatening to brim over. He stood and walked toward the youth, resting a hand on his shoulder. Isaac leaped at least a foot into the air and fell backwards in surprise.

"What the- how long have you been awake?"

"Long enough to see that you aren't as okay as you're pretending to be."

"I'm perfectly fine, thank you very much." He stared at the alpha, his eyes narrowing as his heartbeat betrayed his lie. "I'm fine. I've coped before. I'll do it now. I made it through losing Cam and my mom. I'll be fine. He was just a part of the pack." To his surprise, Derek sat about a foot away from him.

"Pack is family, Isaac. I understand" And for once, the phrase 'I understand' was truthful. He knew exactly how the teenager was feeling. He was feeling it himself. They sat in silence for what seemed like an extremely long time. The moon was high in the sky by the time one of them spoke again. It was Isaac.

"The.. the last thing he said to me was that he didn't want _me _to get hurt" he gave a bitter laugh. "Seems kinda ironic now." Derek snorted.

"Damn kid.. could protect everyone with the obvious exception of himself." His fought to keep his voice steady as he sat there with his packmate, staring at nothing in particular and just thinking. It was Isaac who broke the silence again.

"It wasn't your fault, Derek."

"Yeah.. I know.." but it was a lie. His entire body was pulsing with his guilt. He should've made it in time. He should've realized that the vile woman was planning something. He should've _known _god dammit! What good was being the alpha if he couldn't even protect his pack?!

Isaac stood to leave, dusting the soot and ash away from his shirt. He headed for the door.

"Isaac.." he turned to look. "See you tomorrow?"

"Maybe." And he left Derek alone, with all his thoughts and emotions. As he leaned back against the wall, a single thought prevailed.

_It's all my fault._

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**Well there you have it. Reviews are much appreciated. **


	10. Author's Note

**Okay, I'm so, so, so sorry if you were expecting another chapter after.. God, almost five months, but this is just an authors note. Not to fear though, I plan on updating it as soon as possible. You see, I was in full swing in this story.. and then I allowed my friend to make me watch Doctor Who. In which case my muse threw this story behind the couch, and I'm sooo sorry. I'm trying to work on another chapter, but I don't know which Argent the POV should be from. Also, I want to warn you that Since it's been awhile the characters might seem a bit OOC, and I'm sorry for that too. **


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